


the meaning of what happiness is

by foggys_cupcake_girl



Series: Kinktober 2020 [17]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Original Percival Graves, Cats: the musical references, Come Marking, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Kinktober, Licking, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Pet Names, Pet Play, Post-Coital Cuddling, Riding, Scratching, Top Credence Barebone, Topping from the Bottom, What even is my life, all aboard the Soft Snuggly Feels train, anyway, because of course, holy taco Tuesday I wrote pet play, lots of fluff, very soft and snuggly pet play but pet play nonetheless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:46:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27074449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggys_cupcake_girl/pseuds/foggys_cupcake_girl
Summary: Credence and Percy are dancer-singer-actors in a large-scale production of the musical Cats. Credence finds the musical...very inspiring. Percy definitely isn't complaining.Day 17 of KinktoberWritten for prompts: Masturbation | Pet play |Latex| Dirty talk
Relationships: Credence Barebone/Original Percival Graves
Series: Kinktober 2020 [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950283
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	the meaning of what happiness is

**Author's Note:**

> Just a heads-up: Percy and Credence are only a few years apart in this 'verse.
> 
> Also, if you have not seen 'Cats,' the basic plot (if you can call it that) is, "cats have a party in a junkyard." It is every bit as absurd as it sounds, and features LOTS of sexy/grinding/ass-shaking kind of dancing. It's stunning and lovely when done right, but it is the Most Horny Musical Ever. Just, y'know. For reference.

Percival Graves is actually a very nice man. That’s not the problem. The problem is that he has an ass like the David and muscles like Hercules and moves to music like he’s fucking made of it. Watching him shake his ass during his solo number is…honestly the most incredible thing Credence has ever seen. He could watch that man dance all day. It’s hypnotic. It’s literally kept him up at night.

He’s not super thrilled. He _was_ the darling of the cast. And now Percival Graves is here, with his stupid cute ass, his effortless dancing, his unfairly handsome face, his gentle hugs, his popularity…honestly, Credence can’t tell if he’s jealous of the attention Percy gets because he wants the attention for himself, or because he wants _Percy’s_ attention.

“All right,” Tina, the exasperated director, sighs again. They’ve been messing up all day and it’s not getting much better. “Can we just go ahead and try that again? We’ll just start from ‘Invitation.’”

Credence and the rest of the cast take their places, with Nagini briefly squeezing his hand before they separate. The music cues up again, and Credence watches Nagini dance (this is his favorite part—she’s so beautiful it almost makes him want to cry; he secretly thinks he’ll never be as good as she is) before he joins her, singing the one real solo he has in the entire show. He feels self-conscious during this part: he loves to sing, but he knows he’s far from the best in the cast. They picked him for his dancing, not his singing, and he’s okay with that…until he has to sing in front of Percy, who’s good at both.

They make it past the point where they messed up this time, much to Credence’s immense relief, and then his stomach flips over when it comes time for Percy’s big number. He loves this and hates it in equal measure: on the one hand, Percy’s dance is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, but on the other, well…

Percy’s character in the show is, to put it bluntly, a hell of a ladies’ man. He’s the “cool” cat, the crowd-pleaser. If he is on the stage, people are watching, it’s just a fact. And God, the man is beautiful. He moves like he was born for this, like the gods and fates aligned to put him on earth at this time just to dance this number.

And none of that is the problem. The problem is that during this otherwise lovely number, wherein he would ordinarily daydream to his heart’s content about Percy writhes in his lap the way he writhes around onstage, he has to watch _every freaking female member of the cast_ grind up on Percy like they’re going to just dry hump him into oblivion right there on the stage.

Credence grits his teeth as the number begins. He watches Percy gyrate and he can just _feel_ his body temperature rising, feels his face flushing under his stage makeup, knows he has to control himself because this costume hides _nothing._ He watches as Nagini and the rest of the female cast slink out to kneel at Percy’s feet, squeal over him as he shakes his ass.

Credence wants to crawl out there with him. Sit at Percy’s feet and let Percy pat and nuzzle him the way he’s doing with the female castmembers right now. There’s more he wants, but he can’t think about that now, because did he mention _this costume hides absolutely nothing._ And on that note, he really thinks Percy ought to be wearing a different sized dance belt, because whatever he’s got in his pants…it is _not contained._

Credence chokes on his own tongue and has to force himself to calm down by thinking of Grindelwald, the weird-ass theater operator who always creeps on him. (It’s about the least sexy thing he can think of.)

He’s going to be doing this a lot for the next few months. He may as well get used to it.

~

Credence focuses on the steps of the dance, letting the music sustain him in a way that nothing else ever has. He loves this part, where he doesn’t have to worry about blending in with the rest of the cast, doesn’t have to worry about singing, just gets to _be._ It’s _his_ part of the show and he gets to enjoy it, start out as tentative and shy as he sometimes feels when all eyes are on him and then build to a crescendo as the music and the sheer joy of dancing carries him away. He can do this, and every rehearsal he _does._

And, all right, he enjoys the fact that it’s _Percy_ singing for him. Saying all those things about how amazing and special he is. It’s just a song, yes, but God, he loves it.

It’s funny—the musical _Cats,_ in general, is not to put too fine a point on it horny as hell. Every five minutes someone’s shaking their ass, getting felt up by another cast member, sitting in someone’s lap, getting lifted into the air and carried on someone’s shoulders. Hell, at some point there’s literally a mating dance, which culminates in what could politely be described as a cuddle puddle…but amongst the cast, it’s jokingly referred to as _the orgy dance._

And yet. This number here, where Credence has to touch no one, where not a single person looks at him with lust, where there are absolutely zero hands on him save his own…this one is the most intensely arousing number in the show. At least it is for him. Because there are moments when he turns, when he makes eye contact with Percy and he just _feels it._ And every part of him _sings._

He loves it. He wants it. He wants Percy to touch him so badly in these moments but, of course, it’s not in the choreography.

But sometimes at a crucial point they will make eye contact, and Percy will just— _look_ at him. And he sings the lines exactly as they’re written, _was there ever a cat so clever as Magical Mr. Mistoffelees,_ and yet what Credence will hear, will read in his eyes, is _Credence, you are special and beautiful and I like you._

And if he dances with a little more uninhibited joy after that, well…it’s supposed to be an exuberant, happy number, and everyone will just think he’s that good.

~

Another day, another day of watching Percy gyrating while the female cast grinds on him like they’re trying to get pregnant.

He still remembers the day they met. First day of rehearsals. _You’re good,_ Percy said, impressed, when the cast broke for lunch. And then, shaking his hand, _I can see I’m going to have to work hard to keep up with you._

He asked how long Credence had been dancing, how long he’d been in “the business.” Eight years professionally, technically, but— _I learned when I was a kid. It’s been my…passion…for a long time._

What he doesn’t say is that it was an escape. That it was the first thing he learned to do, _loved_ to do, without his mother’s supervision. That it was the first thing that brought his body any sort of pleasure or comfort instead of pain.

And he might be crazy but he thinks…he thinks Percy might’ve known what he meant. The way the man looked at him, _still_ looks at him, makes him feel so good—and he thinks, sometimes, _what if I told him I want him?_

He thinks it every time Percy playfully slaps his ass during “The Rum Tum Tugger.” He thinks it every time Percy hands him a water bottle at a break, he thinks it every time he watches Percy dance, every time Percy turns and looks into his eyes during his solo…every time he breathes, sometimes it feels like, he thinks of Percy.

God, he wishes it weren’t just the _female dancers_ who crowded around Percy at the end of his number and tried to play grab-ass with him. He could stand it, maybe, if it were the whole cast, but there’s something about seeing Percy (who is painfully obviously _not straight_ when he’s not in character) get groped by a bunch of girls.

~

And then comes _the day._

It’s the first full dress rehearsal. They’ve been in makeup for a few weeks now, to practice putting it on (all the performers have to do their makeup themselves, it’s tradition, which makes no sense to Credence but hey, he’s an evolved man, he knows how to put on makeup), but no costumes, not yet. Until tonight.

The moment Credence puts on that sparkly suit and turns around to see his made-up face in the mirror, something inside him clicks into place. He feels…so _pretty._ Credence Barebone, shy church kid who turned to dance to soothe his pain, has fully disappeared. Magical Mr. Mistoffelees, who can bend the laws of fucking nature itself, has taken his place. He feels invincible. He could take over the world right now without breaking a sweat.

Nagini comes up beside him in the mirror and lays her white kitten head on his shoulder. “We look good, don’t we,” she says with a knowing grin. “Remember, Cree, you’re supposed to be in love with _me,_ not Tugger. So act like it.”

“I’m sorry, last I checked it wasn’t _my_ hands all over your ass during the orgy dance,” he snarks, just to make her laugh, which she does.

“God, the headcanons for this show are insane, aren’t they?” She looks up at him with a smile. “You know, you really are the perfect Misto. You’re larger than life, but there’s something so…God, so _vulnerable_ about you. I’m pretty sure…well, no. I won’t tell you that.” She pauses and then adds, “I’m just gonna say—I think you could do with a little more character bleed.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, dumbass, that Misto didn’t bring back Old Deuteronomy by staring wistfully at the magic blanket or whatever you wanna call that thing, and wishing it would just happen. He made it happen. So—just think about that, okay?”

“Nagini, I have had three hours of sleep a night for the last week. If you want me to pick up what you’re laying down, you’ll have to just say it in plain English.”

She rolls her eyes and pulls him in to whisper in his ear, “Percy has got it _so bad_ for you, you absolute idiot. He’s been eye-fucking you during your solo the whole time we’ve been in rehearsal and I’ve caught him staring at you during every goddamn break.” She lets the astonished Credence go, smirks, and smacks him on the ass. “Go get him, tiger.”

Right now Credence isn’t sure he can form a coherent sentence, let alone _go get_ Percy. All he can think is that if Nagini is right…oh God…the possibilities are endless. But then Tina calls for them to get into places, and he has to go, and he has to pull his brain back in from the clouds before he forgets how to breathe, much less dance.

~

Percy is so hot in his costume that Credence chokes when he sees him. All through the warmup he can’t take his eyes off his costar. He’s so beautiful it _hurts,_ and once the actual run-through starts Credence has a hard time getting lost in the show the way he likes to because he can’t seem to make himself stop paying attention to Percy. The way he moves is…it’s indescribable. Seductive, liquid movements of his hips and legs that would entrance a blind man. He’s incredible, and breathtaking, and it’s so, so _hard_ to not want him.

He wants to kneel at Percy’s feet, put his head in his lap, feel Percy’s hands in his hair. He wants to worship, to take, to make Percy absolutely _scream._ And he can’t, because he’s too fucking chicken to do anything but stare.

And then comes the moment that all the women crowd around him and stroke him and tonight…tonight, seeing them all act it, seeing them all _mean it,_ it’s too much. Something primal and furious burns bright inside Credence, and all he can think is _that should be me, my hands on him, he’s mine, they can’t have him._

He’s still a professional, wherever his heart may be, and he manages to keep a lid on it until after the rehearsal. Tina gives her notes and they all scatter, and it’s a stampede to take off makeup and get costumes back to the locker, and Credence still manages to hold himself together—save for the moment he grabs Percy by the arm and whispers in his ear, _wait for me._

And his heart pounds and pounds and _pounds_ when Percy whispers back, _I already have._

~

Credence’s apartment is tiny, just enough for him, and all four hundred square feet of it has been crammed with things he loves—costumes, glitter, makeup, CDs and DVDs full of music and musicals that he loves. One wall has been done up in mirror tiles and fitted with a _barre_ , the floor space there ready to be cleared for dancing, because he’s extra like that.

“I love your place,” Percy tells him with a grin. “It’s nice. It looks like you.”

“Thank you,” Credence says, but he’s had enough of small talk, and the very next thing he does is grab Percy by the shoulders and kiss him until he feels Percy melt against him, hears a moan struggling to escape the man’s throat. He pulls back and sees a starry-eyed look in Percy’s beautiful eyes that tells him all he needs to know.

“I want you,” he says, his voice raw. “I’ve wanted you since day one, and—”

“Don’t you dare,” Percy cuts him off, breathing hard as he pulls Credence in close so there’s not a single inch of space between them, “don’t you dare say _I never said anything,_ because you fucking didn’t either— _Jesus,_ do you know how hard I’ve been trying to—I didn’t want to read into it but God, I can feel you, I know you watch me, fuck, why didn’t you _say—”_

“I didn’t think I stood a chance. Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

“Fuck’s sake, Credence. Right back at you,” Percy breathes. Credence moans throatily as Percy thrusts a knee between his thighs. He grinds down on instinct, pleasure sparks through him like lightning, stars dancing in his eyes as Percy shamelessly gropes his ass. “God, you’re incredible. Watching you, having to _sing to you_ without laying down and just fucking _presenting_ to you…do you know how much you turn me on, sweetheart?”

“Right back at you,” Credence echoes, and with a tremendous effort pushes him off and holds him still. “I need—will you stay right there? Yeah, just like that. I want to try something. Please—”

“Anything, baby,” Percy tells him with a smile, and then his eyes go wide as Credence sinks to his knees and looks up at him through worshipful eyes. “Oh. Are we—is this—”

“Just—I need to—oh, just let me do this, _please._ And then you can do whatever you want to me,” Credence promises, and Percy looks surprised but nods.

With a deep breath, Credence leans in and nuzzles his head against Percy’s hip, before crawling in close and grabbing onto his leg, just like Nagini does in the show. Kitten-like he rubs his head against Percy’s leg, as if scenting him. His heart pounds and he’s torn briefly between worrying that this is too much, that Percy is going to push him away and ask _what the hell do you think you’re doing,_ and how undeniably good and _right_ it feels to finally do what he’s been wanting to do for months now.

He hears Percy’s little gasp of surprise—and then a little _oh_ of understanding. “Are you my kitty?” Percy says softly, reaching down and scratching the top of Credence’s head as if he were a real cat. “You want me to let you rub all over me like my fangirls do in the show, baby? Is that what you want?” He groans as Credence rubs his head right over Percy’s thigh, mere inches from his very clearly rapidly-filling cock (seriously, does the man just not wear underwear?).

Credence almost says yes and, instead, some little imp inside him makes him let out a pleading little _mew?_ instead. His face flames. Oh God, now he’s done it, this is officially Too Weird and Percy’s hard-on is going to wilt and he’s going to push Credence away—

Instead his fingers briefly tighten in Credence’s hair before he sighs deeply and says, “All right then, lovely. Let’s go over to the bed, okay? I don’t know how long I can stay on my feet if you’re going to be all over me like this,” he says bluntly, and Credence’s heart disappears and is replaced with a helium balloon. If he gets any happier, he thinks, he may fly apart into a thousand sparkling pieces.

He stands up and lets out a gasp of surprise when Percy scoops him up bridal-style and carries him over to the daybed in the corner, and instead of laying him down, sits down and holds Credence on his lap, arms cradled protectively around him. “Here, baby. Sit on my lap like a good kitty,” he grins shamelessly, and Credence is so turned on he thinks he might cry.

He has complete freedom to do what he likes now, and he _does._ He writhes in Percy’s arms with abandon, licks his throat and the little space under his ear and the part of his chest revealed by his v-neck shirt, snuggles up and nuzzles every part he can reach. Percy alternately laughs and moans and takes it all, petting his hair and occasionally murmuring _there, that’s it, take what you want, sweetheart._

But it’s not enough and Credence knows what it is he really wants. He slides to the floor, parts Percy’s knees, paws at the front of his jeans and lets out another wistful little _mew?_ as he looks up at Percy through pleading eyes.

Percy looks back at him, face flushed, and swallows audibly. He stands up just long enough to kick off his jeans (he is not, in fact, wearing underwear, for the record) and sits back down, watching Credence through eyes nearly black with lust, his pupils like saucers. “Sweet thing,” he murmurs. “Are you going to lick me with that rough kitty-cat tongue of yours? Gonna lap up my _cream,_ baby, is that what you want to do?”

Frankly, at this point, Credence doesn’t even want to parse out all the reasons why this turns him on. He leans in and licks the tip of Percy’s swollen cock and cherishes the resulting moan like treasure, lets the sound fill him up as he laps at Percy with abandon. Percy threads his finger through his hair and pets him, strokes him, like he would a real cat, and Credence feels tears well up and spill over because it’s so _good._

Because Percy is so fucking _gentle,_ and even when Credence starts to swallow him down in earnest, he never thrusts into his mouth or yanks his hair. He just pets him. Coos soft, sweet things at him _(my good boy, such a good little kitty, oh that’s so good kitten, oh, you’re my good boy, oh yes, please sweetheart just like that, you’re so good to me baby)_ and strokes the back of his neck and just takes what Credence is willing to give him.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” Percy breathes as Credence lets out a very un-kittenlike moan, unable to stop the rush of desire that washes over him as it sinks in that _he’s really doing this,_ that Percy is so kindly and willingly letting him have this. “Do you like having my cock in your mouth, baby? Feels good? Makes you _needy?”_ And something a little darker, a little dirtier, creeps into his voice as he pants, his thighs trembling as he gets closer to the edge, “Can you do something for me, little kitty? Can you reach down between your legs and stroke yourself while you lick and suck on me, sweetheart? Please?”

Credence just moans in reply, the vibrations apparently doing something to Percy as he makes a nearly-inhuman noise himself, and thrusts his hand into his yoga pants. He moans again as he grips himself and Percy cries out, panting hard as he begs, “Oh, just like that—just like that, sweetheart, so good. You’re such a good boy, good kitty, just keep—oh, _just_ like that, oh God—”

Percy is considerate enough to keep mostly still as he comes, but Credence can feel him shaking, can feel Percy’s thigh trembling against his cheek, and knowing that he’s making Percy feel so good sends a throb of arousal through him. He stroke himself faster, sucks Percy a little harder, and Percy cries out again. Credence looks up in time to see his head flung back, chest heaving, the hand in Credence’s hair getting a little tighter.

“Good kitty,” Percy gasps as he comes down a little, still shaking, his free hand gripping the bedspread. “Such a good boy. Like that, baby? Like drinking up all that cream? You got it all, didn’t you sweetheart, didn’t miss a drop, my good little kitten—”

And Credence actually _sobs_ as he comes, his orgasm sweeping over him like a tsunami, and he buries his face in Percy’s thigh and shakes apart, his pleasure only heightened by the way Percy strokes his hair and murmurs sweet little encouragements as he comes—“Look at you, my good boy. That’s it, baby. Do you know how beautiful you are when you come, sweetheart? Almost as beautiful as you are when you dance…”

Credence feels Percy hauling him up again, spreading him out on the bed and gently peeling off his now-soaked pants. _Mmm,_ he hums, and Percy laughs softly. “You can talk again, baby, if you want,” he says soothingly, brushing a sweaty strand of hair from Credence’s eyes. “Unless you want to keep being my good kitty?”

The words punch another moan out of Credence, his spent cock twitching. He doesn’t want this to end. _Meow,_ he murmurs, and Percy looks surprised, but he rolls with it. “Want me to take you inside me, sweet thing?” he murmurs, tracing feather-light, almost ticklish patterns on Credence’s skin with his fingertips. “If I can get you hard again, I’d love to ride that beautiful cock of yours. If that’s all right, of course.”

Credence nods firmly. Percy laughs and nuzzles his neck. “Good boy,” he whispers, and Credence shivers. “If I hurt you, sweetheart, or you want me to stop, or you get tired, just say _tugger_ and I’ll stop, okay?” Credence nods. “Good boy. Such a good kitten. I’m gonna tease you a little now, get you hard again, okay?”

He does just that, pampering Credence with sweet, full kisses that make him feel deliciously squirmy, touching as much of his skin as he can, pausing now and then to stroke his hair and tell him _good boy, so good for me, you’re such a handsome boy, such a good kitten._ Percy laughs when he makes the mistake of touching Credence’s exposed belly and, like a real cat, Credence clamps down on his arm and won’t let him go for a good five minutes.

It’s heaven. He doesn’t have to talk, doesn’t have to tell Percy how he feels or what he wants or how afraid he was that Percy wouldn’t want him. All he has to do is take what Percy wants to give him, and that’s so _easy._

 _I love you,_ he thinks, and then yelps when Percy licks at his cock. “Are you hard again for me, kitty?” he grins, and then adds with a playful little laugh, “Are you in heat? Ready to mate me, sweetheart?”

He’s so _fun,_ so gentle, and Credence can’t help but moan a little even as he meows his agreement. He reaches under his pillow and pulls out a bottle of lube that usually goes onto his right hand for a whole other reason…but tonight Percy leans over him on all fours and moans in pleasure as Credence gently probes him open. “That’s it,” he groans as Credence works a finger into him, and then shivers when the second finger is added and brushes up against something that makes him jump. “Open me up, baby, just like that. That feels so good. You’re gonna make me come before you even get me on your cock, sweetheart, you know that?”

Oh. Well, then. Credence always has liked a challenge. He works in a third finger and pumps, in and out until Percy is trembling with the effort of not collapsing on top of him. “Oh God. Credence, _Jesus,”_ he pants, his eyes fluttering as Credence finger-fucks him with intent. “Sweet thing—oh, God—oh _God,_ I can’t— _ahh,_ feels so good—oh God, I need— _Credence—”_

He comes, sudden and hard, and nearly collapses as Credence works him through it, cum splattering across Credence’s chest and belly and making him feel nearly feral. “Sorry, sweetheart,” Percy manages when he can breathe again, and then quickly changes tack when Credence makes an unhappy noise and shakes his head. “I mean—no. Not sorry at all. I wanted to mark you. Make sure every other human knows you’re mine and they can’t have you.”

 _Mew,_ Credence replies happily, and Percy laughs and nuzzles his neck. “Still want to fuck me, sweetheart?”

Well, of course he’s not going to say no to that. He nods and Percy grins and carefully sits up and eases himself down onto Credence’s cock, his eyes rolling back as he’s slowly filled up. “Oh God, sweetheart, _yes._ Feels so good, having you inside me…I’m gonna ride you hard, baby, okay? If it doesn’t feel right, you just say the word.”

Credence nods and then, on impulse, reaches up and swipes his nails over Percy’s chest, just hard enough for him to feel it. Percy jumps a little and clenches down on Credence’s cock, his eyes briefly snapping shut. “Oh, baby. You want me to go hard, is that what you’re telling me? Gonna scratch me up if I don’t?” Credence pouts and shakes his head, and something dark and lusty creeps across Percy’s face. “Ohh…you’re marking me too, is that it? Gonna make sure the other cats know I’m spoken for? That I’m _your_ human?”

Credence mews happily and snaps his hips up, making Percy cry out and fall forward onto his hands. “You’ll be the death of me,” he groans, and then, using the bed to brace himself, begins to rock up and down on Credence’s cock, setting an intense, almost brutal pace.

Oh, and Credence _loves it._ Percy is hot inside, and slick from the prep, and relaxed from his orgasm, and it feels so good it makes Credence weak. He feels so relaxed when he’s under Percy like this, pinned down by the man’s comforting weight, protected by those rippling muscles, but absolutely safe in the knowledge that Percy will do nothing to truly hurt him.

The pleasure builds inside him like rising waves, ebbing and flowing but definitely building, and he’s about to grab Percy and drive into him again, but Percy takes hold of his hands and gently pins him down. “I’ve got you, little one,” he pants, still bouncing up and down like he’ll die if he stops. “Let me do the work tonight. You just let me take care of you, okay, kitty? Just let me be good to you.”

Something about those words shoots a golden-tipped arrow through Credence’s heart even as they go straight to his cock, and his back arches wildly as he comes with a wail. Percy shudders through his third climax with a gasp, _oh my good boy, my good kitty, you’re so good for me baby, I love you, I love you, I love you._

They lie curled up together for a long time, tacky cum cooling on their skin and sweat evaporating enough for them to chill, and yet neither of them makes a move. ‘You just said you love me,” Credence says after what could either be ten minutes or a calendar year, he’s not sure.

“Yeah, I kind of did. I, um. I may or may not get a little sensitive during sex. You can—” Percy winces a little. “You can, uh. Strike that from the record, if you want to.”

Credence is not, contrary to popular belief, the most naive and gullible moron on the planet, so he doesn’t believe that for a second. “Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“Stick to dancing, love. You’re a terrible actor.”

There’s a moment of shocked silence, and then a low, rich laugh as Percy holds Credence close and buries his face in his hair. “Okay, sweetheart. Okay,” he concedes, and squeezes him close one last time. “Come on. Let’s go shower so we can sleep. I want to hold you all night, okay?”

“I want to hold you for the rest of my life,” Credence says, because he can, because Percy isn’t going to push him away for being honest.

And he didn’t think there was anything in the world that made him feel better than dancing, but now, he realizes as he pulls back, there _is,_ and it’s this: the way Percy’s looking at him right now.


End file.
